


Soliloquy

by DestinyWorks



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: #nonbinary xion, Might Add More, My friends liked it so I’m posting it here, Slight mention of blood and minor body horror, angsty, but about yozora, heavy soriku AND sokai tones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:13:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26130193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestinyWorks/pseuds/DestinyWorks
Summary: Ever wonder if the hero was hurt?
Kudos: 15





	Soliloquy

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a late bday present to myself,,, am I projecting? Gods know.

After it all is done, Sora is so quiet now. Maybe he’s seen so much hurt, or been in so much pain. Or maybe it’s because all that life belongs to others now.  
Riku is the first to notice.  
It’s small things, like Soras usually huge appetite has shrunk, or that he can’t take ridicule as easily as he did. He seems to hide less behind his smile. And sometimes, he wants to be alone.  
Sora sings.  
It’s not loud, barely above a hum, but he will sing to the old songs on the cassette player his dad used to own while he’s cooking. He’ll sing the old playtime songs while he and Kairi dance on the beach together. It’s a slow, solemn waltz, as they try to recapture a snapshot of youth, when times were good.

Roxas will hear a song that raises nostalgia in his heart and a lump in his thoat. He’s never heard the tune, but it washes memories of sand and seashells and love before his eyes. He closes them. These aren’t his, and he hates himself for enjoying another’s life. The rush of wind seems to call his name at night, but he ignores it. It is someone else’s name it’s calling. And that part is so far from him now.

Xion loves to collect things. Axel will taunt her and call her a hoarder, and Roxas will look at her with those knowing eyes, but she doesn’t care. As long as she can remember who she is, with the memories stored in these things, the real things that she can hold and touch and love and are hers. Then and only then can she not feel like mist on a sunny day, slipping through the fingers of another. 

Naminé feels..... different. Her hands are rougher from her art supplies, her fingers are stained with watercolour and ink, but even when she first woke up in her new body, she felt. She felt the fabric of her clothes, and how cold and thin and small she felt in it. She felt her hair and the calluses on Xions hands when they first met. The cold of the ocean and the rough edges on the shells that live on her bedside table. Not all things feel good, like some of the clothes that Kairi gave felt to rough, to small or just too Kairi. Xion understands. They and Naminé share the same face, the same eyes. But right where the similarities begin, they end. Xion has Soras easily tanned skin, while namine burns on a cloudy day. Xion has Soras smile, his freckles, his nose. All Namine has is Kairi’s mole, right under her left eye.

Vanitas hates himself. He hates Sora, he hates Ventus, and all of the stupid puppets that share both their faces, their voices, their laughs. His laugh. Vanitas hates everything about them but.... when was the last time he sounded as cheerful as them all, the last time he laughed? Every emotion spills out of him, composed of his fury and his hate and his longing, to be somebody more.

Ventus was the first. He has had blood on his hands and wind in his ears, and to his friends, his family, he is perfect in every way. Ven feels like he’s grown up. He doesn’t think he wants to be perfect anymore, but, where he feels anger, there’s a hole. There’s nothing to stop the plug, to catch all the fear, or hate, or jealousy. Ven knows where it goes. He wants to help Vanitas, but Vanitas flees, the first chance he gets. Ven lets him go. Ven can’t be afraid, and crying can only last so long now. The tears that were shed when reunited with Aqua and Terra were the first in ten years, but they seemed to have dried now.  
Ven can’t cry anymore, or feel angry or afraid.  
And that makes him the most afraid of all.

What happens when you include children in your war, in you battle of dark and fate, of right and wrong? They break, they shatter into a million pieces. Those who wanted freedom got it and those who wanted peace now sleep. But what of the sobs of our hero into his best friends shoulder after a night full of nightmares? What about the boy with another’s face, who has monsters crawl from his chest every time he needs to cry? What about the ones with no memory except someone else’s?  
They have fought the war of fools, and now bear a soldiers crown. They have stared into the eyes of gods and said that they are willing to fight.

They are brave, but those before them will foolish enough to make children pawns in an adults war.


End file.
